


The Outside Man

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 05:22:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17339348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: He was rarely in the limelight, often in the shadows.  He was their 'outside man'.





	The Outside Man

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know the show never gave his first name. I figured it was time.

He was their 'outside man', performing a job that would have put a strain on the very best of them. A prisoner of war, eating the same food as they did, working the same work details, sleeping on the same rocky mattresses - then transforming into a shadow as another man took his place in the barracks, in the line at roll call. A constantly vigilant figure, a shadow himself waiting in surrounding shadows for the signal to come back and be a prisoner of war again. But a man cannot live like that forever, tethered yet untethered; sooner or later, he becomes more, perhaps even in spite of himself. 

It was perhaps telling that Colonel Hogan had never asked just what Sergeant Olsen did during his hours, sometimes days, even weeks, as their 'outside man'. For him, it was enough that Olsen did the job, didn't get caught, and returned when he was supposed to. In the beginning, Olsen took that as an expression of confidence in his abilities; later, he wasn't so sure. 

At first Olsen had been more than a little scared when Hogan had explained what was required of him. Well, he hadn't been given much in the way of specifics, knowing only that he had to keep out of sight, not be spotted, never ever make contact with any of the others from camp while he was out there, yet always be aware of that special signal that would tell him when he was to return to camp. Sometimes there was an additional signal that would say HOW he was to return, but often that was left up to him. It was a remarkable amount of responsibility, and it was rather amazing how much you could NOT get involved in the outside world at the same time you were pretending to be PART of that outside world. 

Sometimes Olsen felt he was two, no, at least three, maybe more people. Sometimes he found that more than a little disconcerting, though less as time went by. As long as he was clear which person was in control at any one time, (and he was very, very good at that!), it became almost second-nature to him. Luckily for almost everyone who came in contact with him, ALL of those persons were really pretty nice individuals; after all, that wasn't always the case.

First, he was Sergeant Olsen, currently a prisoner of war, inmate of the so-called 'toughest prisoner of war camp in all of Germany', well, at least that's what Kommandant Klink called it. Hogan tended to call it 'our little Travelers' Aid Society', which was more accurate, of course.

But, then, Sergeant Olsen was also a detached member of Hogan's Command Crew. Oh, not 'detached' as meaning aloof, but 'detached' as meaning he worked alone much of the time, separated from the others, from their home base. Still, he was part of them in many ways, certainly shared many of the same objectives, the same goals.

Then there was Sergeant Colin Olsen, ferreting his way through the underbrush, an itinerant wanderer of the countryside. He didn't stay that person very long, only long enough to make the transition; it was far too dangerous, and being a shadow drew suspicion. After all, things that lurked in shadows were often pretty bad and scary things; just listen to some of those stories Corporal Langenscheidt told and he'd make a believer out of you real fast.

Then there was Colin. Colin was the friendly, if not overly well defined young man who always seemed to be on his urgent way somewhere else, attending his business, but usually with the kindness to stop and pass the time of day, help with a few chores, kiss a few smiling lips, and more. That's where Clara, and Elsa, Gerta and Ingrid, Liesbeth came in.

And finally, there was Colin's alter-ego. It was a long time before he named that alter-ego, a long time before there was any need. And that character had been slow in emerging, like a butterfly from a chrysalis. And surprisingly enough, Clara and Elsa and Gerta and Ingrid and Liesbeth had been an integral part of building that alter-ego as well. For as sweet and knowledgeable and talented as they were as lovers, they were each as sweet and knowledgeable and talented as teachers, showing him what he needed to know, helping him develop that alter-ego into a person just as real, just as alive as any of the other people he was.

And it was that alter-ego who took the earth-shattering, highly dangerous, totally unacceptable step of falling in love. For love is a risky business, at any time, but especially in the middle of the war. And for his alter-ego and his new love, it was more risky than for most, enough he often wondered if they had both lost their minds along with their hearts. But never did he wonder when they were together, never then. 

Well, there had been that ONE time . . .

"Still dont know what got you so twisted about in the woods, Andrew, or why you 'ad to go and yell like that! Bout scared ten years off me life, and I don't reckon I 'ave it to spare! And don't go telling me about that bloody wolf again, cause I don't believe it. Leastwise, not about the bloody beast wearing glasses and a cap."

"Well, I don't know what you want me to say, Peter, if you don't want me to tell you what I really saw. It's not like I'd be mistaking it for anything else, you know. There were plenty of wolves back home, though not too many of them wore glasses or hats; maybe it's more a German wolf kind of a thing, you think? Maybe the forest really is enchanted, you know, like Corporal Langenscheidt says?? Maybe I should ask Schultz."

The others were watching, enjoying the wrangling. Well, most of them were, anyway. Olsen was sure acting like he was enjoying the show, but Carter could tell the young man was pretty much pretending, was more than a little nervous. Well, he could understand that; he knew the orders as well as anyone else. No contact outside the fence, no recognizing each other even if such contact couldn't be otherwise avoided. Still, it wasn't like Carter had intruded on purpose or anything; he was just gathering nuts for LeBeau for some special French dish that Newkirk was still complaining about having to eat (both helpings of it, with not enough left on his plate for even Felix to get a satisfying lick), and between looking for the nuts, talking to the squirrels and watching out for German patrols, he'd been up on Olsen and his companion taking their romantic little stroll before any of the three were aware.

{"Boy, remind me not to do THAT again! I thought they were both going to pass out. Well, until I pretended I didn't recognize either of them. Actually, those were pretty good disguises, especially Olsen's, and Olsen had the voice down real good too. He did all the talking too, so maybe he's really better at it. It was really kinda funny, just a polite little conversation in the middle of the woods between me and two 'strangers'. Yeah, just me and a guy and his girl, all taking a nice walk in the woods. Still, when I heard Newkirk coming, I figured I had to do something; Peter's no dummy, and he's pretty much of a smart ass, too. I don't know why I hollered about there being a wolf; it just seemed like the right kind of thing to make them take off in one direction, and let me take off back in Peter's direction and topple into him and keep him from spotting them. And the description, well, maybe that was from that disguise, the cap and the heavy glasses. Yeah, that was probably it."}

Sergeant Olsen lay in his bunk, propped up on one elbow, listening to Andrew Carter rattle on. He'd gone back and forth, between thinking Carter had recognized them, and then being sure he hadn't, then back to thinking maybe he had. Then, he started worrying about Carter not recognizing them at the time, but for him to suddenly wake up and realize who he'd met in the woods. He didn't know which was worse, but the not-knowing was going to give him plenty of sleepless moments, he was sure of that. And if HE was going through this, what was his love going through? After all, Olsen was the more down-to-earth type, not the more imaginative, more high-strung of the two. 

It took all the nerve he had, to turn his head and look directly at Sergeant Carter, wondering what he would see in those eyes. Well, he didn't have to wonder very long, for the kindest smile came to that face, and a knowing look of such sweetness to those eyes, a look that Olsen found himself returning in sheer relief, before Carter continued with his story, turning back to look at Newkirk. "Well, you could ask THEM, they saw it too, I'll bet."

"Who, Andrew? Who are we to ask? Didn't mention meeting up with anyone else out there, now did you?" Newkirk asked suspiciously.

"Oh, I didn't? Well, I don't know his name, and I don't know if I'd recognize him again even if I saw him. I mean, he was kinda like any other guy, you know? But her, she was really pretty and awful sweet, real soft pretty voice. She said her name was Olive, or something like that; I mean, that wasn't it exactly, I don't think, but that was close. Real nice couple, I thought."

"Well, if you don't really know who they are, or w'ere they're from, can't really ask them about your bleedin wolf, now can we, Andrew?"

Andrew frowned, "gee, I guess not, Peter. Well, maybe I'll meet them again some time. Maybe after the war. That would be real nice."

And that smile was innocent and open and no one could doubt he meant every word of that. Not even Sergeant Olsen, who suddenly thought he just might be able to get to sleep tonight after all.

But first, Olsen wanted to get a breath of fresh air. He needed to take a little stroll around the compound, maybe see how the plants were doing in that little side flower bed around the Kommandant's quarters. Wander past the dog pens, maybe. Might even take a walk over to the rec hall and see if there were any new announcements posted there. Probably would stop and pass the time of day with Corporal Langenscheidt, who should be on duty about now, maybe have the camp story teller spin him a new scary story. In any case, it wouldn't hurt to stop and say a word or two, maybe tell him about that nonsense Andrew was telling about a wolf in glasses and a hat. No harm in that, surely. Could be Karl would even turn that into a story of its own. Karl was talented that way, very imaginative, even if he was a little high-strung. Well, many of the artistic types were, of course. 

But it wasn't Olsen who told a story when they first met, it was Langenscheidt, who with an eager smile, told of the odd story Corporal Dieter Van had told him not an hour earlier, about a young writer and his Oliphisia and their happily-ever-after ending. Only then did Olsen relate the story of Andrew Carter and the wolf in glasses and a hat and the young couple he'd met in the woods. And they shared a companionable nod before they each went on their own way; well, as companionable as was likely, with one being a guard in the toughest prisoner of war camp in all of Germany and the other being a prisoner in that camp.

 

Epilogue:

Haven had received its share of visitors, some who were perhaps to have been expected - family, of course, and friends they'd made in Stalag 13 and elsewhere. That the former-Sergeant Hans Schultz had come to visit might have surprised those who were unaware of their history, but not so much to others. One of the two visitors expected now was also someone they'd met at the camp, another who'd been placed in a position of guarding them, and like Schultz, one who had taken considerable risks to keep them safe, or as safe as they were likely to be considering all the circumstances.

And he was someone not totally unknown in the world, not like he'd been then, just a lowly German Corporal, eking out his way in a place only the most incompetent or most in disgrace German soldiers seemed to find themselves. No, Karl Langenscheidt was quickly becoming a rather well-known writer, with a very well-diversified body of work, though he did still seem to specialize in the scary story genre. They didn't know a lot about his life, except for maybe Andrew. After all, it had been Andrew, soon after he'd gotten to Haven, who'd approached Caeide with a favor to ask on behalf of an old friend. Andrew figured there was a debt owed, at least he felt that way, and he was pretty sure Caeide would feel the same. Well, he'd been right, and the favor granted, gladly. Now Andrew would have the opportunity to see first-hand if that had gone as well as he'd hoped.

Their other visitor, well, it looked to Peter like that hadn't panned out, seeing only two people alighting from Ian's plane, not the three he'd been expecting. 

"Looks like Andrew's going to be disappointed, Caeide; don't see Olsen. Wonder w'at went wrong. Not that I was all that sure about 'aving Olsen 'ere at the same time as Langenscheidt anyway, although they seemed to muddle along as well as might be expected back at camp. Next time, maybe I'd better 'ave a better look at any invitations Andrew decides to send out. You know 'ow 'e is, thinking everyone's as easy-going as 'E is. Wouldn't want a visit ruined because others can't get along."

Caeide laid a comforting hand on Peter's forearm, "well, I'm sure it will be a nice visit in any case. Come along, I want Andrew to introduce me."

"Could do that meself, just as easy, at least for 'im. Can't say I know 'is lady, but doubt Andrew does either. Though, might be one a those 'e was keeping company with back w'en 'e was doing 'is stint as a guard," he said, chuckling, then putting out his cigarette to move further up the path. Andrew had scurried ahead, eager to greet the visitors; if there was any disappointment there, it certainly wasn't noticeable to Caeide's eyes.

They'd gotten a few yards further on, Andrew now happily chattering away with the newcomers. Peter could now get a closer look at the couple, tall skinny Langensheidt and the young woman, pretty, dark-haired, and an eager smile on her face. 

"Coo! Looks like old Karl got 'imself a real looker! Surprising, that, as 'omely as the man is. Nice enough bloke, though, and right talented story teller. Pulled me outta a bad spot, 'e did, early on, and turned a blind eye plenty of times. Seems she aint too shy, neither; look at that buss she gave Andrew on 'is cheek, like she . . ." 

Caeide watched out of the corner of her eye, as Peter's eyes widened in shock and he came to a dead halt. Slowly he turned his head to face her, "I'm gonna 'it 'im upside 'is 'ead so 'ard, it's not gonna stop spinning for a bloody week! Bloody 'ell!!"

She chuckled, "yes, well, wait til after they've gone. I want Andrew as level-headed as possible during their visit. Now, put your eyes back in your head and let's go greet them properly, Peter!"

"You knew about this??"

"Yes, of course; they DO live at one of the Family Enclaves. But Andrew wanted to surprise you. He said you could handle it; don't let him down, Peter; he's counting on you," she warned him, but with a smile on her face. No, Peter wouldn't let them down, any of them.

And they made their way forward, to shake hands with an eagerly beaming Karl Langenscheidt, up and coming author, and his companion who was giving them a shy, perhaps a bit apprehensive smile.

Peter drew a deep breath, "ei, Karl, it's been a long time," shaking the grinning man's hand before turning to the smaller figure beside the former guard.

"And just as long since we've parted company, ei? So, w'at do I call you now? Still going by Olsen? Colin?"

And that smile he remembered from the old days replaced the shy hesitant one, "you can call me Colin, if you want, Peter. Or Olive; that's short for Oliphisia. I answer to both. So, tell me, guys, seen any wolves lately?"

Peter groaned as he remembered that story Andrew had told, about meeting the wolf and that young couple in the woods. {"Yes, I'm definitely going to 'it Andrew upside 'is bloomin' 'ead; no doubt about it!"

"Well, come on, no sense standing around 'ere. Let's get down to the 'ouse and 'ave a drink and you can tell me 'ow things are going. Writing any new stories, Karl? Something exciting? And you, Colin, w'at mischief are you getting into?" Peter offered, and that approving look from Caeide meant a lot. Even more, though, was the absolutely joyous and happy look on Andrew's face, along with the looks on their visitors' faces. {"Ei, well, can't say we're all the usual sorts around 'ere neither,"} he shrugged, accepting of the vaguaries of life and all the richness that they could bring.


End file.
